


Don't Look Back

by Rayla957



Series: TDP College Universe [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Callum is Protective of Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, I Made Myself Cry, I'm Going to Hell, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, just overall quite emotional as you can tell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayla957/pseuds/Rayla957
Summary: Prince Callum's whole life is upended in an instant when an attempted assassination of the royal family leaves him mentally scarred. Now staying at the unfamiliar Katolis College, with his brother in a boarding school halfway across the country, he can only hope that someday he will be safe in his home again. However, unbeknownst to him, it won't be anytime soon. His new friend, Rayla, is more dangerous than she seems, and Soren and Claudia have their own plans to kidnap and kill.In other words, an angsty college AU balancing medieval magic and modern tech with a slathering of attempted murder, all tied together with a slowburn Rayllum romance. What could be more fun?
Relationships: Callum & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Claudia but it's toxic, Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Claudia & Soren (The Dragon Prince)
Series: TDP College Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147274
Comments: 41
Kudos: 40





	Don't Look Back

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> Violence and blood  
> Death of an unnamed minor character  
> Offscreen deaths of many unnamed minor characters  
> Family angsts  
> Callum spends most of this chapter running and trying to not die  
> Minor injuries to a main character  
> A child is endangered  
> ...
> 
> I'm having a huge amount of fun writing this fic so far, and while I know it's no masterpiece, I'm actually pretty confident in it. Concrit is welcome, and I hope you have just as much fun reading as I have writing <3\. Most of the tags refer to events in later chapters (which will be trigger-warned appropriately beforehand).
> 
> I'm also making a habit of linking some songs in the A/Ns for symbolism purposes. They're not necessary to enjoy the story though. :D
> 
> This chapter's song is "Run Rabbit Run"! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4tkxAmuM8Y
> 
> Oh, and a note: Callum, Rayla, Claudia, and Soren are all slightly aged up. Ezran is still ten.

"The king has requested to speak with you," called a soft voice.

Prince Callum twisted around, startled. A Crownguard soldier was standing behind him, looking at her feet instead of meeting his eyes.

"Oh, hey, how's it going?" Callum replied, relaxing once he recognized the familiar face. "I haven't talked to you in a while."

The soldier shook her head and repeated the king's orders. Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor.

Callum sighed, smile fading. "Alright, I'll go and see him."

The girl was always shy, but usually not quite this withdrawn. Odd. It must've been a bad day.

Callum walked past her and opened the door to the castle corridors. As he made his way down the hall, something seemed off. The castle citizens chattered and bustled about as normal. The building itself was the same as it had always been. What was different?

Callum finally placed it: The Crownguard seemed on edge, just like the girl had been, each and every one of them. Some wore fearful expressions; others steeled themselves.

Newly nervous, Callum hurried through patchwork halls. The castle around him had been cobbled together by years of new additions and renovations. Some regal segments still stood as remnants of a time long past, when Katolis Castle stood high and proud over a medieval kingdom. As history gave way to new beginnings, however, so had the building itself. Walls crumbled, pillars cracked, and in time they were rebuilt and replaced with more modern architecture.

Slowing his stride, Callum cast a fond look at the castle library as he passed it. He'd always go there to draw on unhappy days. It was quiet and pleasant, filled with old spellbooks and fanciful tales. Crimson stained-glass windows lined the walls and filtered in rosy light. It was a miracle the fragile panes were still intact after so many years, but time had been kind to the little library.

The castle may have been odd and out of place, sandwiched in the center of a bustling urban landscape, but at times it felt almost magical, as if straight out of a storybook. Callum wouldn't have traded it for the world.

All his worries rushed right back as he approached the throne room, pausing at its arched, imposing entrance. He reached out a hesitant hand and pushed open the gilded doors.

"King Harrow? You wished to see me?" He slipped into the room, the door swinging shut behind him with a whispery creak.

Harrow stood in the room's center with his arms folded behind him, staring out the window and evidently deep in thought. At the sound of the door, he turned to face the prince, lightening ever so slightly.

Callum swept into an off-kilter bow. At this, the king took a slight step back. "No need for formalities." Harrow paused. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "I would prefer this to be a conversation between father and son, not king and subject."

Callum righted himself, but still stood straight and stiff.

The wind picked up outdoors, howling and roaring like some great beast with lightning on its tail. Harrow cast an anxious glance through the window at the cloud-swept skyline.

"I have some things I need to tell you." Harrow sighed and drew in a deep breath before making his next statement. "These aren't easily said out loud, so I wrote them down for you to read. Open this when... well, you'll know when."

The king took a few steps toward Callum and held out a letter, which Callum took and examined. It bore Katolis' royal seal, an old tradition rarely used nowadays, but which was occasionally placed on especially important documents. The crimson wax was still warm.

"And this, too, is important, a key to your future and to the past. You will understand in time." Harrow held out another object, this one a golden cube engraved with strange symbols. Callum took this one as well.

"Why are you giving me these?" Callum questioned, meeting his stepfather's eyes as he tucked the letter and cube into his jacket.

Thunder crashed, echoing throughout the castle. Callum flinched, and Harrow shot another worried look through the window. The king continued, "I don't have much time before nightfall, so I'll try to keep it brief. There will come a time, quite shortly, where I will not be in power over Katolis-"

"You're stepping down?" Callum burst out, alarmed.

The king responded, "...Something like that." He looked at the ground for a second, and something flashed in his eyes. Callum tried to decipher it: Guilt? Sadness? Fear?

"You're eighteen now, old enough to be on your own. I'm sending you to stay at Katolis College- you've passed it before, it's to the west of here. Ezran will be at Orchard Boarding School. It's sudden, I'm aware, but the both of you will be safe, and that's what's important."

Callum wasn't sure what to make of this. Why was Harrow stepping down, and who would take the throne? How would Katolis fare without him guiding it? Screw Katolis, how would Ezran fare without Callum guiding him?

Before Callum could voice any of his concerns, however, the throne room doors were thrown open with a resounding crash. A Crownguard soldier stood in the doorway, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. She was blood-streaked, terrified, her eyes wide and haunted. "They're here."

Harrow's face lined with fear. He walked over to the weapons rack and took a spear and shield- no time to equip anything else. His only armor was the knowledge that his death would be swift.

Harrow turned to his stepson. The boy looked bewildered, afraid. Harrow wrapped his arms around him. Callum stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and returned the gesture. "Take care of your brother for me," said the king. With that, he let go of Callum and walked through the door, spear at the ready.

"Wait, you can't just- COME BACK!" Callum shouted. Callum dashed through the door just before it closed...

And walked into a horror show.

The walls were streaked with blood in every direction. Screams and battle cries slashed through the air as combatants tore each other apart.

Crownguard defenders were locked in fierce battle with creatures straight out of campfire tales.

Moonshadow elves.

Some legends said they had fangs. Some said they'd drink your blood. When a full moon rose, they were nearly unstoppable.

Callum's heart skipped a beat, then plummeted.

_Tonight's a full moon._

He tried to take a step back, eyes wide, but the door behind him was closed. He pressed himself against it.

Another ragged scream split the night. Callum gasped when he recognized the source- it was the timid Crownguard girl. An assassin was lifting her by the neck. A blade flashed, and Callum shut his eyes. A terrible sound filled the air, steel ripping flesh, then the snap of shattered bone.

When he opened his eyes again, a corpse lay near his feet in a pool of blood, limbs bent at unnatural angles.

Callum couldn't hold back a scream.

_Where's Harrow, where's Harrow, where is he?_

Callum called out, voice breaking, desperate, "KING HARROW?" One of the assassins turned towards him, and Callum saw the glint of a blade, fierce crimson eyes. "HARROW?"

Callum shouted, frantic, "DAD!"

There was no response.

Callum ran for his life.

He dashed across bloodsoaked floors, slipping and stumbling, as fast as he could possibly go. His heart pounded so loud he could hear it, so fast it was painful, trying to break out of his chest like a bird trapped in a cage. Callum skidded through a corpse-strewn hall, recognizing the familiar glint of Crownguard armor beneath the red and desperately hoping Soren hadn't joined the gory parade of bodies.

A swishing sound swept through the air, and a pale blur caught the corner of his eye. Callum turned his head and saw nothing there. Did he hear footfalls behind him, or was it the storm outside? He didn't slow his run, he couldn't; if he stopped for a breath it would be the last he ever took.

The boy sprinted through stairways and corridors, footprints tracking crimson blood in a trail behind him. Every shadow he passed looked like a monster, every reflection was the flash of a steel blade. Burning pain stabbed him like a spear to the lungs with every breath. _Can't stop, can't stop, can't stop._

Callum had one goal only: Save Ezran.

He finally reached the door he was looking for, throwing it open and dashing through without caring if it closed. General Amaya stood in the center of the armory, examining a shield with a grim expression. When she looked up, she saw Callum, frantic, struggling to sign to her with trembling hands. "Where is my brother?" he questioned, praying that she understood, praying that his voice breaking didn't mean she couldn't read his lips, praying that by some miracle his shaking hands still formed coherent words.

Amaya's eyes showed comprehension, and Callum sighed in relief. It seemed his prayers were answered.

Her expression twisted into one of fear. "I haven't seen him in hours," she signed. "I assumed he was with you."

Never mind, it seemed whatever forces were out there hated Callum down to the core.

Images of the bodies lining the castle halls flashed through his mind. What if Ezran ended up like-

No. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

Callum dashed out of the room without another word- he had no time to waste. Sliding, shaking even more than before, he ran across the castle floors. Why didn't this stupid, obsolete palace tile have any traction whatsoever? Why wouldn't his legs move faster?

He sprinted in no particular direction, hoping that Ezran would be around every corner and panicking just a little more every time he wasn't. He stumbled, fell against the floor with a terrible crack, got up again, kept running, repeated the process too many times to count. Callum barely even noticed- there was no time to spend on caring about anything but where his brother went.

"Ezran!" He called, desperate, voice cracking. _Where is he, where is he, where is he, no no no nononono_ -

"Where are you? EZRAN!"

"I'm here! Callum!" A small voice called out to him from somewhere he couldn't place.

Callum skidded to a stop, and so did his heart for a split second. "Ez! Where are you?"

"I'm behind the painting!"

Callum turned to face a garishly bright depiction of some historical battle: Fierce human soldiers fighting against an army of dragons and elves. He shuddered at the thought of the assassins, glancing around the room on instinct. When he was certain no silvery creatures were lurking in the shadows, Callum lifted the painting along a hinge to reveal a small, tunnel-like space. A small child was curled up inside, shivering, eyes wide, fluffy hair askew. A soft light emanated from the backpack beside him.

Callum immediately pulled the boy into a fierce hug, blinking back tears. "Thank goodness you're safe, Ez, I was so, so scared..." He hugged his brother even tighter. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Ezran leaned into him, letting his heartbeat slow. He looked up at his brother's face-

And his heart immediately sped up again. He barely managed to stifle a shout, instead burying his face in the fabric of Callum's jacket and letting out a tiny squeak of terror. "Callum? You're bleeding. A lot. A lot a lot." His words were muffled by the coat, but frantic nonetheless.

Callum blinked, confused, and lifted a hand away from Ezran, putting it to his face. His fingers came back covered in blood, and he wiped it on the side of his jacket, staining the cloth crimson. There was, in fact, a deep gash across his cheek, just below his left eye. Now that he noticed it, the wound burned like fire. "I fell down a few times when I was looking“ for you. I must have gotten it then. I was so focused on finding you..."

"You didn't even notice?" Ezran hazarded a quick glance at Callum's face again, but hid his head back down in the coat before his eyes could land on the blood.

Callum gave a rueful, humorless smile. "Fear does that sometimes, I guess. I don't think it's as bad as it looks, though."

Ezran clutched Callum tighter, trying not to cry. "I'm so sorry I scared you... I was exploring the castle, since- since I hadn't been- I-" The boy's voice broke apart into tears. "I hadn't been to this part of the castle much, and... and then they came, and-" Whatever Ezran was trying to say next devolved into a wave of shaky, ragged sobs instead, and Callum bent down to embrace his brother fully.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, no need to be sorry. It's not your fault." Callum fought back tears of his own, and, like Ezran, did not succeed in his efforts. "No sorrys, okay?"

Callum tried to wipe the tears from his eyes, but only succeeded in smearing blood across his face. He prayed that Ezran wouldn't see and rubbed the blood from his hands on the jacket again. There were getting to be quite a few red stains across the fabric.

He tried one last attempt at wiping the blood off his face, but only succeeded in causing white-hot pain to bloom around it as more blood dripped down. He winced, tensing. Ezran hugged his brother closer.

Callum took a deep breath and stood up again, reluctantly releasing Ezran. "Hey, Ez. We should get going." He kept his voice calm and steady for Ezran's benefit, but panic was rising in his chest. He glanced about the room nervously and lightly shook his brother's shoulder. "Stay close."

Ezran reached back into the tunnel and bundled his backpack into his arms, mumbling something reassuring to the creature inside it. The boy turned back to Callum and gave a solemn nod.

The two took off down the hall. Ezran tried his best to keep up, but the kid's legs were still short and he soon began to lag behind. Callum took Ezran by the arm to help pull him along. In any other situation, he would have slowed down too, but they had to hurry. His grip on Ezran tightened with every passing second.

"Close your eyes," Callum whispered. Ezran did, and was spared the sight of a bloodied Crownguard corpse. Only when it was far behind them did Callum instruct his brother to open his eyes again.

The two finally spotted General Amaya, who was walking down the hall in a grim stride. The brothers dashed to meet her, quick as lightning, and Ezran tackled her in a hug so fierce it would have nearly toppled anyone else. She looked down at the boy, and her shoulders slumped in relief. "I'm so glad you're safe," she signed, then looked up at Callum. Her expression changed to concern as her eyes traveled over the bloodstains on his jacket and the gash on his face.

Before she could question the gory sight, Callum signed to her, "Can you get him to the school safely? Protect him?"

Amaya nodded. "I will guard the prince with my life." She looked over him again in the same worried way she had before. "I think it would be safer for you to come with us."

Callum shook his head and replied, "You have enough on your hands protecting one person, you don't need me there too. I can do this on my own."

Truth be told, he wasn't sure if he could, but maybe if he said it was possible, then it would be.

"Then go, quickly. It's a miracle the assassins haven't gotten to you yet, but they won't stop trying."

Ezran let go of Amaya and looked up at Callum. His blue eyes were wide.

Callum winced.

_No, Ez, please don't cry over me._

Callum bent down to look his brother in the eye. "Hey, it'll be alright."

"No, it won't. I know enough about Moonshadow elves to know that you could get hurt. They've got fangs and they drink your blood and, an-"

"Those are just myths, Ez," he said. He wasn't entirely sure whether they were or not, but he hoped Ezran would believe him. "And anyways," he continued, "I'll be able to get out of here faster if I don't have to slow for you. Amaya will protect you. You know she's a good fighter."

Ezran shook his head. "I don't need Amaya to protect me, I need you here." His voice broke, and Callum desperately hoped his brother wouldn't cry again.

Callum pulled him into a hug and found that he didn't want to let go. Maybe Ez wouldn't be the one crying.

"I won't say goodbye, because we are going to see each other again," Ezran mumbled.

Callum released his hold on Ezran and nodded. "I'll see you soon."

Callum turned and sprinted down the corridor. He was tired of running, but there was no time to be tired. Instead, he began to panic again, shooting paranoid glances at every shadow as if it were about to reach out with its inky tendrils or slice him into pieces with a silvery sword. Were the assassins right behind him? Would they kill him any second now? The acid taste of fear was building in his throat, but he braced himself and pressed onward.

Finally, finally, he saw the wide castle doors ahead. Callum raced forward with a new burst of speed he hadn't even known he could achieve-

And slammed headfirst into the door, which didn't budge. He staggered back, bewildered and newly bruised.

Without even giving himself a chance to recover, he threw himself against it again. The door stayed stubbornly closed.

With wide, fearful eyes, he twisted back around to face the hall, scanning the space for any assassins. The corridor was empty, but he knew it wouldn't be for long. A trail of crimson blood, his own, glistened back at him in warning.

Callum slammed against the door as hard as he possibly could, tried again and again until everything hurt, growing more frantic with each passing second. Faster and faster and faster, over and over and over, until, exhausted and terrified, he crumpled to the floor.

He buried his head in his hands. It seemed he would die here then, he thought, letting out a humorless little laugh. When he took another breath, what was a laugh turned into something like a sob instead.

Wait- what was that?

Something glinted near the top of the door.

A bolt.

It was simply bolted shut.

Callum wiped the tears from his eyes. Blood smeared across his hand, but he didn't care. He drew in a shuddering breath and laughed again, if it could be called that, a sound of relief and sadness and joy and every built-up emotion all at once.

He stood, reached up to the bolt, and slipped it off the latch.

Callum put a hand out and pushed open the door.

_Thank the lord for summer storms._

The boy allowed himself a split second to take in the rain-swept sights of the city, just grateful to be alive. His frantic breathing slowed as he took in the cool air, listened to the rhythm of the drumming rain, let the wind sweep around him and let the water wash away the blood.

_I'm never taking this for granted ever again._

Callum shook his head, clearing away the reverie. He could be thankful later, when he was safe for real. For now, however, he had to keep going.

Away from the flashing blades, away from the broken bodies, and away from all the crimson.

Crimson blood that soaked the dead. Crimson eyes that stared him down. The crimson of the too-cheerful stained-glass windows. Crimson wax sealing the letter.

Callum had seen enough crimson for a lifetime.

He set to running again, disappearing into the greys of the city. Every footstep kicked up drifts of water. Unlike the archaic castle scenery behind him, a sprawling urban landscape made up most of Katolis. Here dwelled skyscrapers, strip malls, neon signs hazy through rain. Usually these streets were traffic-choked, but that night they were decidedly barren, and rightly so. What sane person would peep out of their safe, warm home to face thunder and driving rain, in the middle of the night no less?

Apparently, Callum would. Unlike the others, though, Callum's home was decidedly more dangerous at the moment.

He bolted past street sign after street sign, bold plaques which proudly proclaimed names such as "Banther Avenue" and "Sunbird Lane". Lightning sliced through the night over and over, strobing over the city with a harsh white glow.

Callum finally skidded to a stop at a sprawling, blocky collection of buildings. His breathing slowed, and he staggered over to a nearby bench.

He blinked back foggy vision and looked down to realize his blood was staining the bench.

The world tilted away, twisting and spiraling into black.

..........

An uneasy breeze ruffled the trees, swirling around the forest clearing. A stern-faced elf stood tall in the clearing's center, speaking with grim authority. His audience was no more casual.

"The king has been taken care of, as you can see by your bindings. However, the princes have escaped."

Solemn nods rippled through the group. They knew what they had to do, and they would carry it out, no matter the cost.

Rayla fidgeted with one of her bindings, eyes fixed on Runaan as he gave his orders.

"The crown prince is now located in Orchard Boarding School. All of Katolis will certainly be on guard, so we must wait before the next strike." He paused. "Brave elves have been lost tonight. Their deaths will not be in vain."

Rayla looked over at the empty spaces where two other assassins used to sit. She hadn't known them well, and they'd always been terse around her. Regardless, something felt hollow in their absence. It shouldn't have been like this.

If it was any small comfort, the two had gone out as warriors. They'd fought fiercely until the bitter end.

She snapped her focus back to Runaan, trying her best to fight back a growing tide of dread.

"The target we'll be focusing on is not the crown prince. Prince Callum is sure to be less guarded. This is where our youngest assassin factors in." Runaan leveled a cold stare at Rayla.

_I won't end up like the others. I can do this. I have to._

She steeled herself into the fiercest expression she could manage. _I can do this. I will._

"Rayla. Your first mission..." Runaan paused, and something flashed over his features. The elf stilled himself again and carried on. "You will bide your time in Katolis College. Undercover as a student, you should be able to avoid suspicion."

When Runaan spoke next, his voice was dangerous. "Do not let me down."

Rayla nodded. "My heart for Xadia."

Runaan knew she meant it.

He only hoped she was capable enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter: Rayla and Callum meet, Rayla contemplates her mission.


End file.
